An Autopsy Gremlin Blues
by WriterKos
Summary: One needs to have responsibility to handle the delicate care of an Autopsy Gremlin. Part of the Dr. James Palmer M.D. series.
1. He's gone

**_Title: An Autopsy Gremlin Blues  
>Author: WriterKos<br>Rating: FR15  
>Parings: none<br>Characters: Jimmy Palmer  
>Genres: Vignettes, Character Study, Drama<br>Warnings: none  
>Summary: One needs to have responsibility to handle the delicate care of an Autopsy Gremlin.<em>**

Sequel to "The Last Straw: Tales of Dr. James Palmer M.D."

Chapter 1 – Learn the rules

"This is outrageous!"

Ducky's expletive surprises the agents who look up from their paperwork in the middle of the Monday morning to find a very irate M.E. marching down the corridor, his face red with anger and fury burning brightly in his eyes.

The younger members of the team look at each other with confusion clearly written on their faces before looking again at the usual calm and moderated Scott, who now seems to be in a war path towards the stairs that lead to the Director's office.

Their fearless leader, almost as surprised as his agents, struggles to keep his usual poker face as he stands and stops the growling man before his desk, interrupting his march towards the stairs.

"Something wrong, Ducky?"

"Something is wrong? Everything is wrong! This is madness! The world has gone crazy and I have not been informed of it beforehand."

"What has happened, Ducky, to put you in such terrible state?" Ziva asks, looking worried at the frazzled doctor.

Now that they could look at him carefully, they can see that the usually pristine doctor is all ruffled, as if he had been in a wrestling match, his tie is askew, his hair uncombed but the most striking difference are his eyes. They could see that they are red and blotched, as if he had cried bitterly not too long ago.

"I've arrived this morning for work and I was surprised that Mr. Palmer wasn't there to greet me. As the morning went by, I've got worried as he rarely is so late so I tried to reach him on his cell phone. Perhaps something might have happened to the boy, and it's holding him back making it difficult for him to arrive at work."

"So what? Have you spoken with him?" Gibbs asks not really concerned. Palmer has been acting up lately and even he, who doesn't interact much with the boy, has noticed that.

"No, Jethro, I haven't. His landline phone has been disconnected. His mobile only reaches the voicemail. And then…"

"Then …"

"I've just received this from HR."

Gibbs takes the letter from Ducky's shaking hands, his frown becoming deeper and deeper as its contents are unveiled before his eyes. Gibbs lifts his eyes and looks at his long time friend, finding him struggling to keep his tears in check.

"They've fired the boy, Jethro. They've decided to try to hire another intern in his early years of Med School, because as he has just graduated and they would have to hire him full time in order to keep him here as a Medical Professional and that doesn't fit their budget!" By the last words, Ducky's voice is shaking with fury.

"And you haven't had any idea of this?"

"No! If I've had, I would have tried to speak to the Director. That's not done!" Ducky takes a deep breath. "Oh God, Palmer knew about it! He knew all along!"

Tony goes to Gibbs and silently asks to see the letter, receiving the piece of paper as if it were a snake. Each word feels like a sword hitting his skull, as he had flashes of sad blue eyes in a very thin face looking at him behind wire rims.

"Why do you say that?" McGee stands beside Tony, who silently hands him the letter and soon McGee also pales at the contents of it.

"He tried to tell me." Ducky takes his glasses and starts to obsessively clean the lenses, receiving worried glances from the Tony, Ziva and McGee, who are now looking like lost children who had just lost their best friend.

"He told me that he needed to talk to me. He tried several times, but I've just blown him off, believing it to be related to the case or one of his questions about my stories. He was always so curious and eager to listen to me and he… he was in trouble, Jethro, and I didn't know! I didn't see it! What a terrible person am I!"

"No Ducky, you're wrong. You're not a terrible person. I'm sure that if we speak with the Director this will be sorted out.

"But… I can't reach him. He's not answering his cell phone and his house number has been disconnected… And I'm ashamed to admit that I do not know since when. What have I done, Jethro? I should have talked to the boy. He had been quieter lately, but I've thought it was the usual pressure of ending his grad work, the writing, the extra hours… How could I not see it?"

"We'll sort this out, Ducky." Gibbs say, taking the letter from McGee's slack fingers and marching towards the stairs, eager to have a little chat with Director Vance.


	2. The worst blind man

**_Chapter 2: The worst blind man..._**

**_... is the one who refuses to see._**

Two men stood in the room that smelt of leather, paper and wood polish. The light slowly filtered through the blinds giving a sinister look to the room, keeping it in shadows cut only by the led lights of the computer and the LCD television hanging from the wall behind both men.

Dark brown eyes squinted at cold blue eyes. Teeth chewed slowly a toothpick as one stared at the other.

All that was missing was the old western song playing in the background, the whistling of the wind and an old sallon door slamming shut in the background of the standoff.

"Why are you really here, Agent Gibbs?"

"I'm seeking answers, Leon."

Gibbs squinted at Leon, unwilling to give in to his stubbornness.

"What makes you think that I have them?"

"Aren't you the director?"

"Yes, I am. But that doesn't necessary mean that I have them all."

"Why did NCIS fire Palmer?"

"Mr. Palmer wasn't fired. As far as I know, his tenure as intern has come to an end. It wasn't renewed due to internal reorganizations in the budget of the main office."

Vance's answer was expected, but not necessarily what Gibbs wanted to hear.

"So are you trying to tell me that you really expect Ducky to handle all the physical work in autopsy on his own."

Vance moved around his des, going to his chair and sitting on it. He grabbed a few folders and looked aggravated at Gibbs.

"My expectations have no concern or connection to the matter at hand. A new assistant will be hired within the budgetary limits set forth for the office when the need arises."

Gibbs smirked at the political response, but he was unsatisfied with the situation and angry that one of his extended family has been considered replaceable by the agency.

"Palmer has been in NCIS for years. He has gained Ducky's trust and respect. Do you really think he's that replaceable?"

But Gibbs was surprised when Vance, instead of looking guilty, slammed a hand on top of his desk and glared at Gibbs, throwing daggers at the older man.

"Please, why are you defending him so? You have never directed a word to him as far as I know. You've never even looked at him with anything but reproach. Why do you expect me to believe that you care about him when Palmer couldn't bear to stay in your presence without stuttering like a fool, such was his terror of you?"

Gibbs shook his head, not willing to enter that minefield but Vance wasn't finished.

"Ah, come on…"

"No, Gibbs. Just tell me one time that you REALLY took the time to speak to him? Can you name only one instance when you sat down and spoke to Palmer?"

Gibbs was mysteriously silent, so Vance pressed on merciless ripping him to sheds.

"No. I'm not surprised. So, forgive me if I think all this concern over him is too little too late, as Palmer had been informed of his instable situation months ago. It was his choice not to inform Dr. Mallard and it was also his choice not to inform you. That coupled with the team's complete lack of concern towards his bereavement, I'm not really surprised that he chose to walk away as he had nothing here that could possibly hold him back."

That info brought surprise to Gibbs' features, who shook his head at Vance as the director studied him like a bug.

"Bereavement? What are you talking about?"

Vance squinted at him, his anger at the situation growing at the apparent lack of care of the older man.

"What do you mean? You don't know? How can you go on and on and not notice what is happening around you? And what's happening to those in your team? Where is your famous gut, Gibbs?"

By now, Gibbs was already done with the riddles and half said words. He approached Vance's desk, leaning towards him and trying to show he wasn't intimidated by Vance's apparent pissed off looks.

"Leon, stop playing games with me! What are you talking about?"

Vance took his sweet time to answer him, studying Gibbs trying to find any untrue on his face, but he found nothing that might hint that the man was pretending not to know.

"Palmer's mother is dead. She died of cancer almost four weeks ago. I offered bereavement leave but he refused it, saying that he needed to work to keep his mind out of his personal problems. That's the reason he took a day off last month."

"That can't be true."

"It is true, Gibbs. His mother had been lingering on the brink of death for weeks. Most of his salary during the last few months has been used up either for chemo or hospital stays as due to a change in the welfare policies interns are not fully covered anymore. He has been going through hell and yet none of you took notice of that."

Vance stood straighter, a hand gently fixing his jacket and sliding over the buttons, in an unconscious gesture to check if his image was okay.

"All things considered, he's a good man and I'm sure he will be a good doctor. There was no point in holding him back here on an intern salary when he could find better placements out there in the private sector. Because if he stayed, there was no way NCIS could review his monthly income figures, and with his profile and resume, that would be a waste of his potential."

Gibbs nodded, aware that Vance wasn't going to say anything else on the matter. But he still wanted to press on in at least one other point.

"So… where is he?"

"I do not know. I met him Friday night after he handed out his badge and invited him to a chat in my home. He initially refused, but the offer of a home cooked meal and some TLC was too irresistible for him. Jackie mothered him a little, complaining that he looked way to thin for his height. Once she left to check on my children, I had the time to question him about his future plans, and all he could tell me was that he was going to leave for good. To where, I don't know. He didn't tell me. But to be sincere, I've had the feeling that even if I asked, he couldn't tell me as he didn't know it himself."

"So… you just let him go, without fighting for him."

Vance shook his head, unbelief marking his features, staring at Gibbs with stone set eyes.

"Agent Gibbs, I don't think you have a good grasp of the situation. The time for fighting for him is long gone. He made his choice. He walked away. You should have taken action while he was still around."

He openly looked at his wristwatch, silently indicating that their meeting was over and done.

"Now, if you don't mind… I have an appointment to keep."


	3. Rule 1  No water

a/n: The song mentioned in this chapter is Hurt sung by Johnny Cash, voted best video ever. If you've never heard it, please look it up.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chapter 3: Rule #1 - No water<em>**

**_Sunday_**  
><strong><em>02:54 pm<em>**

It was raining cats and dogs. Very fitting to the current activity of loading several boxes with his last earthly possessions in his small sedan.

Jimmy shivered violently as he ran back into his building to get the last box in the foyer of his building. He had already emptied his small apartment, having used the Saturday to pack and sort out what he was keeping and what he was giving to the Salvation Army.

The volunteers of the charity shop arrived Saturday night and took everything that he wasn't taking with him in the move, leaving empty rooms filled with dust and just a couple of boxes with his most prized possessions.

He knelt on the floor and opened the box in front of himself, smiling a little as he found his childhood pictures with his mom and dad. His favorite picture with his dad was one where he was holding a huge salmon almost as big as the eight year old boy standing proudly beside it. They had stayed for almost a week fishing and camping, being bitten by ticks and God-knows what other types of mosquitos. The ticks, the rain and the wind were hell on earth.

But staying days alone with his dad was worthwhile.  
>It was the last time he camped with his dad before he died in a car crash a few months later.<p>

Next were his pictures at the children's theater his mother insisted he participate. His chess club games. Even a picture of a science project he had done at school with chipmunks. Living chipmunks. His mother always looked so happy in her pictures, her smile so bright and her eyes so full of life and joy.

Jimmy sniffed a little and put the pictures back inside the box, sealing the cardboard edges with tape in order to protect it from the rain and from wind.

He grabbed the box with both hands and ran to the car, organizing the boxes in the trunk so the last box could fit in it. Once done, he slammed the door shut; effectively protecting his bags and boxes from the elements. He ran back to the door of his building, smiling tensely to his landlord who was just watching him load his car.

"All done, Mr. Smith." Jimmy said, offering the keys of his apartment to the older man.

Smith was not a handsome man. Years of drinking and smoking had giving him leather like skin marred by ill-treated pimples as well as a pot-bellied form closely related to a barrel. Still, despite his smoke damaged voice and his rheumy eyes, his mind was still sharp as a knife and his tongue cutting like a sword. He eyed Jimmy, noticing the pale skin and clothes barely hanging on his lanky frame.

"D' ya know where ya going, Jimmy Boy?"

"I've spoken to some clinics in the Midwest about a position. I have a job interview on Thursday but it will take me at least two days driving to reach Kansas."

"Kansas, uhm?" Smith rubbed his receding hairline, staring at Jimmy with his rheumy eyes and observing him shiver under the rain. The boy had withered before his eyes as he cared for his mama, may God have her. "Your mama would be proud of you, Jimmy Boy."

"Thanks, I guess." Jimmy rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up. After an awkward moment, he offered one of them to be shaken, receiving a bruising handshake from Smith, who had always thought that a firm handshake is a mark of character.

No self respecting man should shake another's hand like a cold dead fish.

"I wish ya luck, Jimmy. May ya find what ya looking for."

"Thanks, Mr. Smith."

Grimacing at this aching hand, he distractedly smiled at Smith as he turned around and ran to his car, feeling the tingling on his hand due to the squeezing grip as he started the car, fixing the mirror so he could look at himself.

He paused as he saw his own reflection in it. Tired blue eyes behind glasses were staring at him, a world of hurt swimming in them. His skin was pale, paler than usual, and his cheekbones were more prominent than before, thanks to the abusive weight loss he had suffered during the last few weeks alone.

Eating had become a second thought as the very thought of food gave him heartburn. Between his diabetes and his juggling with the medical bills still left over from his mom's treatment, he had reduced his food intake to the merely necessary to survive.

Funny that no one around noticed anything wrong with him at all.

Sighing loudly, he drove his car away and distractedly waved at Mr. Smith, eager to get to the highway and start his journey to… well… his future.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

At first he just drove under the rain, his mind churning with memories of the last few years at NCIS. He lightly smiled at the memory of Abby and her amazing boots, how tall she would look in then. He remembered his great and highly unlikely friendship with DiNozzo who despite his goofy attitude was a great person to talk to in times of trouble.

Pity that none of them were willing to hear when he needed to talk.

Shaking his head to disperse the dark thoughts, he considered his old mentor, Dr. Mallard. Now that's an amazing man. He was a veritable gentleman, a seeker of knowledge who did not shy away of the duty of partaking his knowledge. A man who treated the dead with the same kindness and integrity he reserved for the living.

A truly amazing person whose example he would gladly follow through all his days practicing medicine.

Then he considered McGee, the shy computer expert of the team Gibbs. He overtook a slower car as he nodded distractedly at the memory of the tall agent, who had changed so much through his tenure as an agent. Great friend and an all round great guy, pity that they've never had just the time to sit down and get to really know each other.

Then there was Ziva. Oh, Ziva David with her deadly paperclips. That was a woman that could scare the daylights out of a man, at the same time that she could warm up his body with just a sultry glance. He smiled at the memory of her constant teasing to McGee and Tony, making both men kneel before her power of seduction.

He slowed down as a huge Mack truck signaled that it was entering his lane, observing how the other cars discretely moved away from the metal beast, letting it take over the road.

His head started to hurt thanks to the constant thinking about what was and what could have been but would never happen again so he sighed, turned the radio on and looked for any station that might be playing anything other than funk, punk or country.

He sighed alleviated when he found a classic rock station which was playing a cover by Johnny Cash. The grave voice echoed through Jimmy's mind, filling the car with its resonance and translating perfectly his mood at this long drive to the West.  
><em><br>What have I become?  
>My sweetest friend<em>  
><em>Everyone I know goes away<em>  
><em>In the end<em>

_And you could have it all_  
><em>My empire of dirt<em>  
><em>I will let you down<em>  
><em>I will make you hurt.<em>

Jimmy gulped as he stepped down the accelerator, seeing the road stretch for miles in front of him. The choice had been made. The path had been taken and the journey was just beginning.

Despite the pain permanently resident in his heart and the whispering doubt ping ponging in his mind whenever he took a minute to think about what he was doing, there was no going back now.

He was on his own.


	4. Rule 2 No food after midnight

**_Chapter 4: No food after midnight_**

**_NCIS headquarters  
>Monday<br>10:12 am_**

Gibbs left the director's office silently fuming but also mentally head slapping himself as he reviewed the last weeks in his mind. The young man had looked thinner, his eyes sunken on his face but Gibbs had never considered mentioning anything because he had assumed Ducky was dealing with it.

Damnit, he was a marine, not a doctor. If Ducky, who saw the boy every single day, hadn't noticed what was happening right in front of his eyes, why should he?

Damnit, Damnit, Damnit. How could have they missed Palmer's mom passing? Why didn't the boy come to him? At the very least say anything? The team would have been there for him if he had just asked for help.

But no, the kid decided to take the weight of the world on his shoulders and stoically kept his mouth shut, enduring hell and refusing any comforting hand from any of his friends.

That if… he considered the team his friends at all.

Okay, the boy was a nuisance sometimes, babbling away the most inappropriate things at the worst possible times, but Ducky liked the kid, enjoyed his company. Considering that Ducky was a sharp judge of character and a hard task master, despite his usual gentle treatment, there must have been redeeming qualities in the kid.

Not that he had ever been willing to get to know the kid personally but… well, he didn't have to have a close personal relationship with the kid to get along fine with him. He wasn't an effusive person, but at least the kid didn't piss him off. It wasn't his fault that the kid became terrified of him whenever he got within five feet.

He was still turning these thoughts around his head when he reached the bullpen, seeing his team eagerly typing.

"What hav'ya got?" His words made each agent jump as if propelled by springs, eager to show what they have found.

"Boss," the three agents echoed, running towards the plasma and fighting for the clicker. After a little struggle, Tony took the lead, throwing triumphant glares at his colleagues.

"Jimmy vacated his apartment yesterday. According to his landlord, a Mr. Smith, Jimmy left the keys with him as he drove away to the sunset."

"Any ideas where he was going to?"

"Smith said that Jimmy mentioned a job interview in Kansas on Thursday, but he has no idea which city that might be. However, he did mention that Jimmy said that he would take two days driving to reach his destination." DiNozzo added, waiting for the reactions of the team.

"That can't be. If he takes a direct route he would be in Kansas in less than twenty hours." McGee commented with a frown in his forehead, looking at Gibbs for confirmation.

"It means that he was planning to stop somewhere along the way. He has time until his appointment, so he might be taking a leisured pace." Gibbs said looking at the plasma, studying a map of the Eastern US on the screen.

"That would mean avoiding main roads and making frequent stops whenever he felt like it." Ziva said, receiving nods from her colleagues.

"What about his cell phone." Gibbs asked.

"Disconnected." McGee said, going to his desk and looking at the file in his computer screen. "According to his records, it has been for the last three months."

"What was going on with our Gremlin, Boss? And how did we miss it?" Tony asked in a low voice, his confusion apparent to anyone with eyes to look at him.

Gibbs threw a glance at DiNozzo. He noticed how his senior agent was hurt by the apparent disappearance of the young Palmer, as those two got close with an unlikely friendship during Gibbs' stay in Mexico. Things apparently cooled down for a while during Palmer's love affaire with the elusive and sneaky Michelle Lee, who later on revealed her role as a mole and ended up dead by one of Gibbs' bullet.

"Did you know that his mother is dead?"

"Dead?" Tony's voice came out in a whisper, almost refusing to come out.

"Dead." Gibbs studied Tony's eyes, seeing shock and surprise but no inkling of the news he had just imparted. "Has been for a couple of weeks. Cancer."

"But… how… when…"

"Apparently a lot was going on that Palmer had not considered necessary to inform us." Ziva muttered.

"That's the understatement of the year." McGee said. "I can't even imagine how hard the last weeks must have been for Jimmy. His mother dead, his job on the line… all these things happening at the same time and still he was here, working, and we had no clue." McGee shook his head, trying to wrap his head around the little drama happening in their little family.

"I'll issue a BOLO on his car." Ziva said before going to her desk, starting the necessary documentation for it.

"He's not a fugitive" Gibbs said. "He went on his own will."

"I'll just report that he's a person of interest." Ziva shrugged, eager to do something to find their friend.

"Do it."

"What are we going to do next, Boss?" McGee asked, seeing Gibbs frown at the plasma.

"We find him." _And I'll headslap him until he explains why he did this to Ducky, _thought Gibbs.

"I can't help but wonder… where could he possibly be now?" DiNozzo muttered unaware that his question voiced the same question in his team mate's minds.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

After driving almost ten hours, Jimmy decided that it was time to make a stop. He found a Travelodge outside Indianapolis, IN, and rented a room for the night. He spent part of the night flipping channels on the older-than-Methuselah TV on the dresser, lying on top of the covers of his non descript hotel bed. His choices were limited: There was porn, MTV, or the dubious reruns of Dallas and Time of our Lives.

He ignored the strange stains in the puce carpet that he preferred to not even think about their origins. The bathroom was filthy, but what else could be expected from a room that still reeked of its previous occupants?

He didn't dare take his clothes off, afraid of bedbugs or other strange creatures he might find in between the sheets, eager for a little bit of his blood, so he laid fully clothed on top of the covers and stared at the ceiling, feeling physically tired and emotionally exhausted.

Meeting Vance on the way out from NCIS on Friday was unexpected and the offer of a home cooked meal was a bittersweet goodbye to this ended chapter of his life. The Director, unlike the team, knew what was going on and he gave Jimmy no chance to ignore his invitation. Sitting down and talking, really talking, about anyone and everything, his mom, his school, Ducky, Gibbs… It felt good to speak to another human being and be heard, not dismissed as an afterthought. Vance, despite his hard-ass attitude and his usual stoic manners, seemed genuinely interested in hearing what Jimmy had to say. It was invigorating, interesting…

It was unheard of.

Jimmy ignored the cramping in his stomach as he felt hunger scratching the linen of his stomach with acid, as his last meal had been a sandwich eaten sometime around the seven o'clock news at a strange diner in the border of Ohio and Indiana.

He fisted his eyes tiredly, the strain of driving for hours announcing itself with a ringing headache flourishing behind his closed eyelids. He sighed deeply trying to ignore the scents and the muttering of the TV, finally frozen in a Beavis and Butthead rerun from the 90s. He turned on his side, folding his long body in a fetal position and hugging his legs, closing his eyes to the world that so far had been unkind and unforgiving. Sleep was almost sheltering him into its arms, consciousness almost slipping away into the land of nod when he was startled awake by a thump on the wall. He half rose from the bed and looked around, trying to figure out the origin of the sound when it repeated again. And again and again. He moaned in despair as the sound gained its characteristic rhythm indicating the activity happening just beyond the paper thin walls.

He covered his head with a pillow, trying to muffle the sound but he could still hear the thumping now joined by moans and shouts of the occupants of the room 3-B just next door.

God must really hate him.


	5. Rule 3 No bright light

**_Rule 3: No bright light_**

Monday came with bright rays of light hitting his face, after a barely slept night thanks to the audio effects coming from the orgy next door. He blinked repeatedly to get the sleep out of his eyes, feeling his head refreshingly free of a headache despite the little sleep he actually had. Sightlessly touching the bedside table, he found his glasses and immediately put them on, bringing the room into focus around him.

Stretching out, he felt his back pop here and there thanks to the uncomfortable position he had slept in, but for the first time in several years he had no rush to leave the bed. He had no school to go, no appointments to make, no crime scene to visit, no sick mother to clean, feed and clothe. He sat there on the bed for a moment, paralyzed, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he had no commitments to guide his actions.

His interview was on Thursday, there was no reason to rush to middle of nowhere, KS.

Maybe he could go sightseeing a little.

He smiled animated with the idea, jumping of the bed and looking for his shoes. He could take a quick shower just to take the sweat and grime of his body, check the sights, go to a couple of museums or even visit the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.

There's even a Medical History Museum, showing medical items used in the 19th and the 20th century. He could go there. With a new purpose in his mind, he grabbed a fresh set of clothes and rushed to the bathroom with a clean towel from his backpack, eager to get into the road.

Just to scream hysterically at a huge flying cockroach zigzagging in the air of the bathroom.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

After the scare and a merciless killing of the flying arthropod, he quickly showered and rushed to do the checkout of that forsaken place. Once safely back into his car with his belongings, Jimmy started to slowly relax of the scare he'd just had.

Jimmy stopped in a nice cozy breakfast place where a smiling brunette flirted with him while she served him blueberry muffins with honey glazed oatmeal cakes, topped with a fragrant cup of coffee. He blushed at the attention but flirted back, asking inane things like what a lonely guy like him could go sightseeing in the town.

She smiled and gave him all the pointers, leaning over the counter and pointing at his touristic map spread out before him. He gulped as he glanced at the perfect breasts encased in a tight fitting waitress uniform just a few inches from his face, just to look up and find a knowing look in the girl's face.

"You know, I leave work after three pm."

"Oh… that's nice but I have to be back on the road after lunch. Maybe next time."

She pouted graciously and left to service another customer who had just arrived, saucily shaking her booty as she walked away. Jimmy tried but he couldn't keep his eyes away, sighing at his idiotic response to her.

He finished his breakfast and left the café, eager to explore the city.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

He visited the Indiana Medical Museum, where he spent hours comparing the 19th century tools to the current ones he had used in Ducky's autopsy or at the University halls.

He also went to the James Whitcomb Riley house, taking pictures of the period house before going to the Hooks American Drug Store museum, where he stood in awe of the progress pharmacology in the last century alone. He got lost in the corridors as history rolled before him and thanks to a very helpful guide he was able to get answers to several of his questions.

After a small visit to the gift shop, he left the museum and found the city bustling with activity, with people going up and down as the lunch hour came. He strolled towards his car parked a couple of blocks down the road and dumped his shopping bags, before locking the car again and going up the road to a small restaurant bustling with activity with the office employees of the neighborhood.

He looked around, trying to find an empty spot but most tables were already taken. He walked further into the restaurant and found a couple leaving a single table by the window. He rushed to reach it but just when he was ready to sit down at the table a small blonde tornado jumped on the other seat, giggling as she threw her pink purse on top of the table.

"Mine! I found it first." She said as she looked up and blushed as Jimmy stood there staring at her, unsure of what to do next.

"Uhm…"

"I'm sorry but I was waiting ten minutes for a free table."

"Okay. I'll just look somewhere else."

"Or… you could sit and make me company. It's highly unlikely you're going to find another free table in the jungle out there." She waved her hand in the air showing the bustling restaurant and the line of people waiting for a place to sit.

Jimmy bit his lower lip before looking again at her, finding a pixie looking blonde with dimples and pink lips, bright forest green eyes eagerly fixed on him. She was mid twenties, in a green polo shirt coupled with cream colored slacks and green princess pumps. Mentally humming appreciatively at her choice of footwear, he smiled and slowly sat down before her, receiving a dimpled smile from the girl.

"So…" he took a paper napkin and started to shred it, just to have something to do with his hands.

"I'm Calleigh Sanders." She offered a hand to be shaken, receiving a firm handshake in return.

"Dr. James Palmer."

"A Dr., uhm? So, Dr. Palmer, what do you want to eat?" She took one of the menus in front of them and buried her head in it, motion eagerly repeated by Jimmy.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Credit Cards and Bank Accounts?"

"He cancelled all his credit cards four months ago, Boss, and he withdrew all his money and closed his checking accounts on Friday."

"Damn."

NCIS NCIS NCIS

His impromptu lunch date with the charming Ms. Sanders was a success. She kept him entertained with jokes and tales of woe of her work colleagues, chattering away as they gorged themselves over prime ribs and all known side servings known to man.

Fortified by the good food and the lovely company, Jimmy left the restaurant with a smile in his face and a gorgeous woman's phone number in his pocket.

He went back to his car and entered it, mentally mapping his way out of Indianapolis until his next stop in St. Louis. He would again get the I-70 and go southwest to the Mound City. He would stop for rest in any hotel that might seem cleaner than the last one, and he might even stop in a supermarket along the way to buy the strongest insect repellent he could find.

Back in I-70, he tuned into a Country music station that didn't sound like crap and bobbed his head as the music rolled and the miles stretched out before him. He drove for a couple of hours singing along with the lyrics, totally out of tune, and whenever he didn't know the lyrics he just mumbled with the song, just to keep himself occupied.

Tapping with his hand on the steering wheel, he noticed the signs for St Louis starting to appear in the highway. He smiled at the thought that there were only a couple of miles between St. Louis and himself. Maybe he could stop for the night there and grab a movie or something, or maybe he could visit another bar hoping to find someone as charming as Ms. Sanders.

With that thought in mind, he stepped on the gas and was just in the suburbs of the city when he noticed a woman in car trouble, standing at the shoulder of the road a few miles ahead. He noticed that nobody had offered help and felt a pang in his chest, the gentleman side of his personality demanding that he helps the damsel in distress.

Maybe he might regret stopping later, but his mama would be rolling in her grave if he drove away without at least offering assistance. He slowed down and took the side lane, finally stopping in the shoulder of the road a couple of yards after the woman's car.

He left his vehicle and approached the woman, who smiled relieved at him as he approached.

"Hi ma'am, are you in trouble?" He asked in his most sincere tone, noticing that she was a typical soccer mom, mid forties, a full head of blonde hair in a ponytail and comfortable clothes that shouted loudly 'suburbs'.

"No thanks. It just died and it won't restart. I've already called for help but they told me that it might take a while to get here." She smiled as him, who stuffed his hands in his pockets, unsure what to do next.

Jimmy glanced inside of the car and saw a small toddler, not older then three, busily drooling in his tooth ring as he stared curiously at the stranger standing by his mom.

He used a finger to push nervously his glasses back over the bridge of the nose, considering the situation for a minute.

"Ma'am, I have no knowledge of how car works and even less on how to fix one, but I know that's not healthy for your baby to stay copped up in a car while you are vulnerable here in the highway. If you wish, I may give you a ride to the next service station and you may wait comfortably there, safe from the wind and rain."

"I appreciate the offer, Mr…."

"Dr. Palmer. I'm a medical doctor."

"Ah… Dr. Palmer. I… you see, despite your credentials, I don't think it's safe to accept such offers from strangers."

"I agree." Palmer took his hands out of his pockets and started rubbing them, trying to warm them up against to the chilly wind starting to blow. "If you won't accept my offer, may I give you then just a suggestion? Please take your child and step away from the shoulder of the road, at least a few yards from the oncoming traffic."

"Why?" She looked puzzled at him.

Jimmy then dug up one of the many random and apparently useless bits of information Ducky used to dump on him whenever they were leaning over a corpse in autopsy. "Research indicates that there is an increase in the percentage of accidents in highways directly connected to people standing on the shoulder. People often disregard the danger they are exposed to during emergency stops but the statistics say that…"

"Okay," she chuckled, shaking his head at his babbling. "You now convinced me that you are a doctor. I'll just get Gabe out of the car and we will stand beyond the slope, okay."

"Thank you, ma'am. It will really put my mind to rest."

"Really? Why?"

"I've worked at a morgue for several years, ma'am. Believe me, such accidents are not pretty to see."

She nodded solemnly as she went to the passenger seat and unstrapped her toddler, who giggled happily and grasped her hair in his tiny fist. He gestured to the direction of the ditch, a couple of feet away from the car and safely away from the oncoming traffic. Once in the bank, they reached the guardrail and stepped over it, definitely leaving the highway behind.

"So, what next?" Once they stood on the grass, looking around the few houses spread out in the fields here and there in the suburbs of St. Louis.

"Now we wait for your help to arrive." He smiled at her, before his gaze moved back to the two cars a few yards away.

"You know, I've never even considered the danger of an accident like that happening. The odds are so high that…"

It was just a flicker of light before Jimmy's eyes but it was enough to make him jump into action. He grabbed the lady and the toddler and threw them to the floor, instinctively shielding them with his own body as a driver of a SUV lost control and rammed with all its speed in the trunk of the parked car pushing it to hit Jimmy's sedan a few yards ahead.

And that was the exact moment the gates of hell were opened in I-70.


	6. Practice vs theory

**_Chapter 6: Practice vs theory_**

**_"Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My God, do you learn." -― C.S. Lewis_**

**_"Victims of a sudden impact are some of the hardest to treat. It's not just the collision that injures them. It's everything after. The centrifugal force keeps them moving, tossing them from vehicles, throwing them through windshields, slamming their internal organs into the skeleton. Their bodies are injured over and over again. So there's no way to know how much damage has actually been done. Until they stop."_**

**_"You can't prepare for a sudden impact. You can't brace yourself. It just hits you. Out of nowhere. And suddenly, the life you knew before is over. Forever."_**

**_Dr. Meredith Gray – Season 8 – episode 10_**

Despite having closed his eyes, Jimmy would later say that he could remember everything.

Every damn thing.

Every screech of metal as it was deformed thanks to the force of the impact of metal against metal.

The sound of glass breaking and showering over concrete.

The sound of other cars struggling in vain to brake just to fail. Inevitably. Horribly fail.

More metal and glass.

The horrified screams of those in the cars as they saw their lives flash before their eyes before their silver cord was severed, never to be repaired again.

And then came the horns of the cars filling the air as their occupants lay wounded over the steering wheels, unable to move from the wreckage.

Slowly moans and crying could also be heard with the horns, showing that something was wrong in the world today, and it would take a long while to fix it.

Jimmy hitched his breath and opened his eyes, afraid of what he might find. All he saw as grass and the terrified blue eyes of the lady he had unknowingly just saved from death, shivering in shock and fear and staring at him in awe.

He looked down, finding the toddler softly crying and reaching for his mommy, who promptly sat down and held him firmly against her breast, feeling the same terror trying to take over her adult mind. He slowly sat down and looked back at the highway, staring horrified at the carnage that happened exactly where they both were standing a few moments before.

"How did you know?" The mother whispered, squeezing her now whimpering boy against her chest, calming him with her heartbeat.

Jimmy surveyed the accident, counting at least five cars other than their own, which had been parked and now lay in a mess of contorted metal. He might be wrong, as some cars were so mashed against the other that it was hard to figure out where one ended and where the other started.

"I…" he licked suddenly dry lips, feeling adrenaline pumping in his veins and bringing a buzz into his ears. "I didn't."

He slowly stood in shaky legs, helping her up as well. The crying of those stuck in the wreckage reached him, immediately making all the training that was hammered into his head for years to come afloat.

"Listen, I gotta go."

"Go where?"

"Help. Do you have a mobile phone?"

"Yes."

"Report the accident, tell them what you see and … keep away from the cars. We don't know if they are leaking oil or not."

His words brought a sob out of her chest, but he didn't have time to console her.

"Stay here and call 911."

He ran towards the highway, signaling to the cars that were able to stop. He ran to one of the drivers who were standing at the wreckage in shock, his shaking hands running through his thinning hair. "You have a fire extinguisher?"

"What?"

"A fire extinguisher." He noticed the other drivers getting out of the cars in an invisible line before the wrecked cars. "Listen, everyone who has a fire extinguisher, take it out of your cars and bring it over here. We need to have them ready in case one of the cars start leaking fuel. You!" He pointed to a beefy man with a scary tattoo, who was looking as horrified as the gray suited man standing by a luxury BMW just a few feet behind him. "Take the people as far away from the crash. We need space to the emergency services to work when they arrive. Clear the perimeter as far as possible. Those who can, please go back to your cars and move them out of the way so we may clear a lane for the ambulances to come. Do it now!"

Apparently knowing what to do gave authority to Jimmy's voice, as everyone rushed to obey his shouted orders. He gestured to the suit who after moving his BMW ran to his side.

"What?"

"I'm Dr. James Palmer."

"Colm Grady."

"Do you have a cell phone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Come with me."

He ran to the first wrecked car, checking if there were any survivors in it. Finding two people inside, he broke the window with his elbow and turned to Colm, shouting to be heard over the screams and moans coming from the wreckage.

"Call 911. I'll exam them and you will repeat exactly what I say to the operator, so the emergency services will know what to expect when they arrive here. Do you understand me?" Jimmy shouted, trying to make Colm look at him not at the bleeding woman tied in her seat belt just a few inches from him.

"Do you understand me?" Jimmy shouted again, getting satisfied only when he received a weak nod from Colm who started dialing in his iPhone.

Jimmy turned to the lady in the car, cleaning the glass from the window and starting his examination.

"Ma'am, can you hear me? Blink if you do. My name is Dr. James Palmer and I'll help you out of here."

And so their struggle started. He and Colm checked car by car, looking for survivors and checking their injuries. Palmer introduced himself to each of the conscious ones and assessed their status, listing their injuries to the 911 operator.

The blessed sound of sirens was heard a few minutes later approaching the scene, the blaring lights illuminating the scared faces of those still around the accident.

The muscular tattooed man with the help of other drivers helped to herd the ambulances towards the site, pointing to the two men talking with a barely conscious man stuck inside a Corolla.

"Sir, move away! We gotta start checking them." The attendant shouted to Jimmy, who had improvised a tourniquet around the man's bleeding arm and was making pressure in a bleeding gash in his leg.

"I'm a doctor. He has a perforation in his leg vein, I'm putting pressure but …"

"Good job son, but let's do our job now." An older attendant told him, gesturing that he should be checked out too.

In a daze, Jimmy nodded and took a few steps back, just to bump into another attendant who had to grab him by his shoulders to stop his fall. The emergency services attendants jumped in and started doing their work with efficiency, signal of years of experience.

"You okay man?"

"What? Yeah… I think the adrenaline is running out." Jimmy blinked tiredly, feeling his legs like rubber.

"Come with Lia there," he pointed to another attendant, "She will check you out."

"But…"

"In here…" An attendant shouted, indicating that he had found another survivor. Jimmy gulped and looked at the man steadying him, his eyes pleadingly begging for a chance. "I can help. I'm a trained doctor."

The senior man looked around, seeing his team struggling at each car, and he had to admit that they were in need of all help they could get.

"Go."

There was no need to be told twice. Jimmy jumped out the man's grasp and ran to offer assistance whenever he could.


	7. A new home?

**_Chapter 7: A new home?_**

_"It's a little bit horrifying just how quickly everything can fall to crap. Sometimes, it takes a huge loss to remind you of what you care about the most. Sometimes, you find yourself becoming stronger as a result. Wiser, better equipped to deal with the next disaster that comes along. Sometimes... but not always."_

_Dr. Meredith Gray – Season 8 – episode 81_

The wailing of sirens announced beforehand the arrival of the ambulances at the Level I Trauma unit of the St. Louis University Hospital. The team of doctors led by Dr. Gloria Hanson was ready for the incoming patients.

Dr. Hanson, known only as Gloria by her interns, was the E.R. Chief, ruling over her interns like a feudal lord (or in this case, lady) over her vassals. Her word was law, her orders were to be obeyed immediately and no disrespect was left without swift reprimand. But she forced her interns to think for themselves, to work hard and she was respected for that. Her short stature and her apparent fragility – she was skinny as a twig with graying hair that once had been blond in a tight bun in the back of her head, with piercing gray eyes that could make you shiver if she glared at you – did nothing to reduce her presence when practicing medicine.

She was a good doctor and she knew it. She wasn't in it for money, but to save lives, as many as possible, as fast as possible.

Once the ambulance doors opened she jumped into action, shouting orders and grabbing stretchers, ordering interns and nurses here and there.

But Dr. Hanson was mildly surprised when one of the ambulances came with a little addition, as the attendants unloaded their patient right in the middle of cardiac arrest, with a skinny looking man with curly brown hair sitting on top of the patient incessantly applying CPR in order to keep the man breathing and his heart beating at least until they could reach the trauma room.

She barked at him ordering him away but he immediately answered with the status of the patient in medicalese, unconsciously revealing that he too was a trained doctor as well.

She took only a second to think '_why the hell not?_' before barking at two interns to help him and she held back a small smirk as the newcomer started shouting the stats making the interns hurry to push the stretcher carrying the patient and the doctor into the hospital.

_Uhm… now that's something interesting._

Anything else she might have thought about the situation was gone when the next ambulance arrived and she had to organize the incoming wounded.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS.

Trauma and Emergency rooms are an organized chaos. There are doctors rushing to talk with patients, nurses running with patient files in hands, interns taking samples to be examined in the lab three floors up. All that mingling with the sound of the crying of the wounded, dying and suffering spread out in several E.R triage rooms before being taken to the O.R if surgery is needed, or taken to the inhouse patient wing where they can have ambulatorial care before being sent home if their wounds are minor and not life threatening.

At any time, there is blood or bodily fluids being spilt on the floor, and there comes the cleaning crew to wipe that away before more blood or unknown fluids are spilt.

Again.

It's vivacious and always busy and also the stage of real life dramas where the difference between life and death is just a matter of seconds.

The coming and going is also constant, so none of the inhouse doctors and interns thought it odd when a cardiac patient from the car crash came with his own personal doctor pumping his chest trying to keep him alive. The situation was dire, time was short and lives were at stake.

The main doctor simply ordered him to take a minute of rest and took over the cardiac massage, while other gestured him to a side door. Behind it, the doctor's lounge held a small lavatory and clean scrubs to those who might get vomit and blood or whatever on their current clothes.

"Doctor, you'd better go clean up 'cause no filthy clothed doc enters Gloria's O.R."

"What?" The skinny man asked still in a daze, staring at the patient who he had kept alive until know only by his sheer strength of will.

"Gloria's coming back and she will screech your ears off if you don't clean up."

The skinny man looked at the doctor talking to him, seeing a fresh faced female doctor looking at him kindly. "What's your name, sir?"

"Ah… my name is …" _Jimmy_… "Dr. James Palmer."

"Dr. Palmer, are you injured in any way? Is any of this blood yours?" The doctor asked, seeing the telltale signs of shock as he looked at her surprised.

"Blood? What blood?"

She narrowed her eyes at him before gesturing down at his clothes. There was genuine surprise in his face when he found his slacks, his shirt and jacket were ripped and covered with blood.

"Ah… no… I wasn't… This isn't mine. At least, I don't think so."

"Were you in any of the cars involved in the crash?"

"Yes... NO… I mean…" He saw that the doctor throw a warning glance to one male nurse, silently asking for help. "Listen, my car was involved in the crash but I wasn't IN it when the crash happened."

"How come?"

"I had stopped on the shoulder of the road. There was this lady… I don't know her name, I've never asked. She had a toddler and her car had broken down. I stopped to offer assistance and when she refused, I told her… I told her to step away from the car and stand away from the express lanes. "

"What happened then?"

"We left both of our cars in the shoulder and stepped away from it, just to have an SUV hit her car full speed and push her car against mine before flipping in the air and landing again in the express lane. It landed on top of a car and the others involved couldn't… they couldn't brake so…"

"I see." She nodded to the nurse and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "We'll do the following, we'll clean you up and check if you are alright, then…"

"But… I want to help."

"After you clean up, if we are still in need of assistance, you can suit up and help us. There are plenty of trauma victims still coming."

"Yes, ma'am." Jimmy answered automatically, accepting her hand on his shoulder as she guided him to the doctor's lounge for a clothes change.


	8. ER blues and woes

_**Chapter 8: E.R blues and woes**_

**_"The first 24 hours after surgery are critical. Every breath you take, every fluid you make, is meticulously reported and analyzed. Celebrated or mourned. But what about the next 24 hours? What happens with that first day turns to two and weeks turn into months? What happens when the immediate danger has passed, when the machines are disconnected and the teams of doctors and nurses are gone? Surgery is when you get saved, but post-op, after surgery, is when you heal. But, what if you don't?"_**

**_Dr. Meredith Gray - Season 7 episode 10_**

Time holds no meaning when you are leaning over an open chest surgery unclogging veins of a dying heart. Tweezers, tubes, scalpels and scissors all being passed from one hand to the other, cotton and rags drying blood and flood coming out of here and there, while a team works in practiced harmony softly asking for this or that tool, nurses taking samples for analysis or changing meds in the hanging IVs bags.

It's a mess.

A beautiful mess.

Jimmy felt in a daze as he was pushed into the doctor's lounge, washed and examined by an intern and found nothing worse than a scratch. As more trauma victims arrived, the intern grabbed clean scrubs from one of the several available in a shelf and ordered Jimmy to dress up and go back to the fight.

Once clean, Jimmy simply went to the first nurse who was passing by and asked what help she needed. She pointed a doctor, who in turn grabbed Jimmy and ordered him to wash up, buckle up and enter O.R.

As said before, time lost meaning after that.

After the heart surgery, there were broken bones, lacerated skin, sutures that needed to be applied and medicines that needed to be prescribed, filed and administered. All that came like a rush with the uncountable hours of Med School, so Jimmy surprisingly adapted and felt his body blindly obeying orders preprogrammed in his motor memory.

He soothed suffering patients and told funny stories to a little girl who was crying brokenheartedly as her mother had her broken leg and hip fixed. He got called to help with a little boy whose father was in surgery, and gently sutured his cuts while making faces and reciting fairytales.

No good deed shall remain unpunished, much less unnoticed. Despite the buzz, the doctors and the nurses of the St. Louis University Hospital were aware of this newcomer, and gave him the tools and space necessary to work but watched like a hawk his bedside manners and his care with the patients. More than one intern or resident made a move to go talk to him, but they were frozen on the spot when Gloria suddenly appeared out of nowhere and glared at them, ordering them to step back and let the boy do his job. Her vassals, as good servants, bowed to her order and went back to work, stealing curious glances at the doctor who was now teaching a terrified mother how to help her toddler if she suspected he was choking on something.

Satisfied that her doctors had scurried away as the scared little rats they were, Gloria turned and went to the door of the E.R. triage room, watching with calculating eyes as the young doctor gently slapped the baby's back and ran soothing hands on it, all the while talking to the mother in a simple way that her frazzled and terrified mind could understand.

Her years as physician had molded her character and given her an accurate sense to perceive those who had chosen medicine just for the glory and the money the profession sometimes brought to people, and those who had chosen medicine out of a genuine desire to help and heal people, whatever might be the ailing the person might be suffering.

The boy – Gloria couldn't consider him a man, he's too fresh faced for it – held his own before his colleagues and patients. He had a considerable knowledge of the ailing and spouted some interesting and obscure info during Mark's surgery, who rushed to ask Gloria who was the new guy and could he have him assigned permanently to his O.R team. But what caught Gloria's attention was his sincere smile and tender care with his patients, how even when he was sewing the most awful gashes with the patient awake he would keep his attention focused on the person, forcing him to talk, asking about his life, giving sports scores or saying some obnoxious story about a Duck in a pond in Scotland somewhere.

The most remarkable thing was that the patients reacted positively to his sincere face and his genuine interest in their lives. Somehow they sensed that he wasn't there just doing a job, but he was interested in them as human beings, their likes and dislikes, and they reacted positively to it. Children absolutely adored him and the older woman nodded at his stories, while the younger just leaned at him as he treated them not as incompetent for committing a mistake that brought their child to the E.R., but as humans who had failed. Everyone fails sometimes.

Gloria narrowed her eyes and walked away, the new boy's full name written in a piece of paper. She entered her office and sat down, dialing an old friend from Georgetown Med School in DC, school the boy, when enquired, told a nurse he had graduated recently. He owed her a favor, and she was willing to collect it in order to do some digging on a freshly graduated student named Dr. James Palmer.


	9. The chase is on

_**Chapter 9: The chase is on  
><strong>_

_**Wednesday  
>NCIS Headquarters<strong>_

"Boss, I had a hit on the BOLO!" McGee shouted, jumping from his chair seconds after putting an image on the plasma.

Gibbs looked up from his report on the life of Chief Petty Officer Lars, whose mysterious disappearance from a docked Navy ship they've been investigating for the last two days. Life and work had to go on, despite the ongoing search in their off hours for their missing friend. The team had been a bit subdued, the shame and guilt of having missed the obvious signals of distress the young medical assistant was displaying overwhelming.

"You know where Lars is?" Gibbs was surprised when McGee looked excitedly to Ziva and Tony, his hands shaking as he put more and more pictures on the plasma.

"No, Boss. I had a hit on Jimmy's car."

His words immediately made his team mates jump and rush to his side, eager to hear the news.

"Where is he?" Ziva asked.

"Is he okay?" Tony

"Ahmmm…." McGee pointed to pictures of a mess of metal and scrap in a highway. "I was just contacted by St. Louis Police and I was informed that Jimmy's car was listed as one of the cars involved in a big accident in I-70 on Monday evening just outside of city limits."

"How big?"

More pictures showed on the plasma.

"Pretty big. A total of eight cars were involved. According to the report, three were totaled; five were in several states of wreckage. Apparently a SUV driver had a heart attack while speeding and hit two cars on the shoulder, before flipping in the air and falling back on the speeding lanes. It fell on top of a family van, injuring all occupants."

"What about Jimmy?"

"Jimmy's car is one of those wrecked. It was parked on the shoulder before the SUV came and… well, it was destroyed against the guard rail."

"How badly wounded is he?"

"That's it, Boss. There's a hit on the car but not on Jimmy. There are some unclaimed bodies of the crash but none who had been identified as James Palmer. The LEO I've spoken to told me that it's been hell on earth since Monday to clean up the highway and all the victims were taken to several different hospitals in the area."

"We will have to go down there to look for him." Tony muttered, his eyes fixed at the mess of scrap metal.

"We're in the middle of an investigation. I can't spare any of you to go digging Palmer's location right now." Gibbs's words made his three agents look at him with something akin of betrayal shining on their eyes.

"But Boss?" They whined in unison, pleading for a chance to go look for their missing gremlin.

"I said no. We finish the case and we all go. Now back to work." He left his desk and walked in a hurry to the elevators. Once in its safe cocoon, he sighed and waited as it moved down, not looking forward to the conversation he was about to have with his best friend.

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Ducky?" Gibbs called out, sighing as he found his old friend sitting forlornly at his desk sipping tea.

Ducky barely glanced at him before his attention fell back on a photo he held in trembling hands, sniffing lightly at it. Gibbs approached him and sighed again as he saw a picture of both Ducky and Jimmy, both in their NCIS jumpers, smiling at the camera. Palmer looked frighteningly young, just as if he had just joined NCIS.

"I miss him, Jethro."

"I know, Ducky." Gibbs took a chair and sat in front of his friend, leaning over and supporting his elbows on his knees as he gathered his thoughts. "We might have an idea of where he went."

"Oh," Ducky's eyes rose to meet Gibbs, his enthusiasm dimming a little as he saw the barely hidden worry on Gibbs' eyes. "What's happened, Jehtro?"

"We've got a hit on his car. Bad accident just outside St. Louis." Ducky gasped horrified, making Gibbs hurry to continue. "There were a couple of fatalities but… no hit on his body. Nobody has identified him yet and… there are a couple of injured and dead still unidentified."

"Oh dear God."

"So… we can't leave right now as we are in the middle of an investigation but you're done with your contribution to the case so…"

Ducky stood up, leaving the photo on his desk and walking with brisk steps towards his coat and hat.

"I'll talk to the Director immediately."

Gibbs smirked, as that was exactly the reaction he was expecting.

"I knew that you were in need of a day or two away from this place."

Sighing loudly, Ducky turned grateful blue eyes to the old marine, ready to depart. "Thanks, Jethro."

"Well wrap this case up and we will in be in the first flight out."

"I'll be waiting for you there, my friend."


	10. Ducky's tale

**_Chapter 10: Ducky's tale_**

_A couple hundred years ago, Benjamin Franklin shared with the world the secret of his success. "Never leave that 'till tomorrow," he said, "which you can do today." _

_This is the man who discovered electricity. You'd think more of us would listen to what he had to say. I don't know why we put things off, but if I had to guess, I'd say it has a lot to do with fear. _

_Fear of failure, fear of pain, fear of rejection… Sometimes the fear is just of making a decision. Because, what if you're wrong? What if you're making a mistake you can't undo? _

**- Dr. Meredith Grey – Grey's Anatomy – 01x06**

It was with certain trepidation that Ducky landed Wednesday afternoon in St. Louis in his quest after his ex-autopsy assistant. Since the young man's disappearance – no, he didn't disappear _per se_, he simply left without saying goodbye after being submitted to countless trials without even a hint of support of those near to him – Ducky kept reviewing the last few months in his mind and shuddered at each dismissal Jimmy had to face, each haughty look thrown his way, each time Ducky had carelessly cut him off not allowing the boy to speak his mind, despite the eagerness quite apparent in his eyes every time he came to talk to the older doctor.

Shaking his head to dispel the morose thoughts that insisted to haunt him, Ducky hurried out of the airport and hailed a cab, eager to drop his go bag at the small hotel Jethro had been so kind to book for him before getting ready to face the hardest moment in his life: visit the morgue of St. Louis County hospital and request to see the still unclaimed bodies of those who had perished at the accident.

And that was only one of the many hospitals he would visit that day.

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Hello, dear. My name is Dr. Mallard and I am here to identify a body…"

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Oh, dear. That's not my boy. Thank God. Do you know anyone in the other hospitals where the victims were taken? Really…"

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Hello Dear. Dr. Morris called ahead informing you of my arrival. I'm here to look at the injured list of the accident and also at the bodies…"

NCIS NCIS NCIS

"Hello. My name is Dr. Mallard and…"

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

"No, ma'am. This is not my boy. You see, I was informed that his car was in the accident but I have already visited three hospitals in the city but he's not either in the injured or the dead list. Is there anywhere else where they could have taken the injured? Ah… you have a two John Does now in ICU. May I see them?"

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

Physically tired and emotionally exhausted, Ducky arrived at the end of the night back at his hotel after doing his rounds in four hospitals in the city. As the number of victims had been staggering high, the injured were charted off to different hospitals throughout the city in order to guarantee that one single hospital wouldn't be overwhelmed with patients.

Just driving from one hospital to another was a trial, as the adrenaline of finding no sign of Jimmy among the silent dead lying in the cold slabs of the morgue was soon substituted by the anxiety of visiting the next hospital to check the next E.R., the next morgue.

The lack of news was terrifying, but the emotional upheaval was charging a hefty price from the older man's health: His head hurt and his stomach was all tied in knots, making it impossible to feel hunger or thirsty. But Ducky was aware of his limits, so he forced himself back to the hotel for a calm meal and a night of rest, before setting off in his quest again the following morning.

* * *

><p>AN: Hello dears, I would like to apologize for the lack of updates but I assure you that it was for lack of trying. has been cruel to me as I wasn't able to log into it the whole week, not even to answer reviews.

So I will try to catch up in the current WIPs while it still allows me in the doc manager area.

Cheers.

Kos


	11. Going overboard

**_Chapter 11: Going overboard… and surviving to tell the tale_**

Jimmy bit his lower lip as he leaned over the outstretched leg before him, carefully ending the sutures on the gash the black athletic teen had done on herself as she fell off her bike during an endurance race a couple of hours earlier.

"I've made that snobbish bitch eat dust. I've had already left three different competitors behind before that branch came out of nowhere and knocked me off the trail."

"Yeah, branches are very dangerous. I remember one time I was maybe nine and I hit my head in one while leaving school. I was running from Jake, he was a huge boy with fists _this big_," He paused to show how big Jake's fists would have looked like to his child's eyes, making the teen look horrified at him, before continuing his tale, "so I decided that I had enough. I was going to stand up for myself and not suffer his hazing and bullying anymore."

"Really?" The teen fidgeted on the bed, her eyes firmly on the young doctor whose attention was back on the sutures. "What did you do to him?"

"To him? Nothing?" He smiled self-consciously, sending her a glance before lowering his gaze back to the last suture in her upper thigh and finally dosing a cotton ball in a proper cleaning liquid and rubbing it on the newly sutured gash.

"The very next day I saw him I ran like hell in the opposite direction, not even caring about my backpack that I had dropped at the school steps. I was so desperate to get away from him that I kept looking back to check if he was on my tail that I ended up hitting my head on a low laying branch of a tree on my way home. I literally saw stars. And a couple of constellations too."

"Wow. Did it hurt a lot?"

"Oh… not really. I was knocked out cold and had to be rescued by one of my neighbors. I had a mild concussion, a very nasty cut in my hairline and had to stay for two days at home. But at least I didn't get beaten by Jake anymore."

He finished wrapping the leg in gaze, tapping lightly on her knee to signalize he was done. "But since then I have always been very wary… of _tree branches._" He said in a low tone, making her giggle and forget momentarily of the pain in her leg. He turned to her mother who was watching at the conversation amused.

"I'm prescribing a couple of pain meds, just to dull the pain. The sutures must be protected from water so no baths for you, young lady." The teen giggled again at the mock reproach on his voice. "Just showers, and if by any chance you start to feel warm around the wound, return immediately to the E.R."

"Thanks, Dr. Palmer." The teen said, slowly standing up and leaving the bed, supported by her mother. Jimmy signaled to one orderly, who brought a wheelchair and gently rolled her out of the cubicle. He watched her going away with her mom, just to find Gloria standing right in the middle of the corridor, her hawk-like gaze fixed on him, her stern face showing not even a hint of emotion.

He gulped, aware of the power that woman held in that E.R. She leaned her head to the side and gestured that he should follow her, an order that he had learned right on the first day that should be obeyed straight away. He scurried out of his cubicle and dropped his stethoscope on the tray of a passing nurse. When she looked at him questioningly, he just pointed to Gloria's fading figure at the end of the corridor, immediately receiving a pitying look from the nurse.

He ran after her, doing his best to avoid orderlies, patients and other doctors, finally reaching her as she turned to the left and entered another area, reserved for doctors and interns. She pointed to one of the offices, used for meetings of the board, silently ordering him to get in there and wait for his slaughter like a good little lamb.

He nodded shakily and moved towards the door, opening and entering the room. He gulped as he found three other doctors, whose faces he had seen around the E.R. for the last couple of days, as well as another two people he had not met before.

"Take a seat, Dr. Palmer. This meeting is about to start." One of his colegues, Dr. Mortensen, said in a calming tone.

Shaking a little, he sat at the lonely chair before the board panel, seeing the scrutinizing gazes of his colleagues and the ever serious gaze of Gloria.

"Dr. Palmer," the bald man sitting at the right at the center of the assembly said, "It has come to our attention how hard you have been working in our premises despite the fact you are not officially one of our fulltime residents."

"Ah… ohh… you see… I was…"

The other man in a suit interrupted him, sternly gazing at Jimmy over his white rimmed glasses. "According to our regulations, no doctor should work without a full background check done by our administration, as a valid requirement to avoid law suits in the nearby future."

"Oh… well…"

"Do you have anything to say to the board about your qualifications and how this matter can be properly handled?" the suited man asked, his face not showing a hint of emotion.

"Ah… I'm sorry if I've been a nuisance." He gulped, looking chagrined at Gloria, who was sitting at the very last spot of the board table with an inscrutable expression on her face. "I just wanted to help and there was a job to be done, and I simply couldn't step back and let someone hurt stay untreated. I … Dr. Lee" Jimmy pointed to an oriental looking one, who had ordered him into the E.R and gave him several of his patients to be treated. "Dr. Lee has been invaluable in his sorting out of tasks and …" He pointed to another doctor at the table, whose arms reminded Jimmy of professional football players "… and Dr. Lawrence is aware of my dedication to medicine…"

"You haven't answered our question, Dr. Palmer. How can this matter be properly handled?" The bald man, who Jimmy had just guessed must be the hospital director, asked. He was a stern man with an eagle's eyes and with a shiny bald head completely devoid of any hair.

"Oh…" Jimmy's gaze went from Gloria, to Lee and to Lawrence, finding no clue of what to answer to him. "I don't know. I really don't."

Gloria decided that it was time to stop playing with their food. It was time to make the final blow and just sit back and watch the fireworks. She stood up, calling up everyone's eyes to her tiny figure at the end of the meeting's table.

"I do."

"Oh… So… what are you going to do?"

"Well, Dr. Palmer, our only chance to redeem the situation at hand is to correct your status at the hospital. If anything goes wrong in your hands the hospital is liable to be charged by unbecoming medical practices or dereliction of duty, as you're not even in our employees' list."

Jimmy blanched, thinking of lawsuits and endless years in prison, lawyers and the possibility of losing his license for a tiny mistake, and still having to pay for the court bills on top of his current financial situation.

"But ma'am… ahh…"

"So, we will hire you as one of our trauma doctors, backlogging your admission date to the date of the accident. You will be paid for the normal working hours as well as the extra hours you've clocked since you've arrived. Oh, and we you will not be charged for sleeping at the doctor's lounge but I suggest you talk to your work colleagues to help you find a place for yourself with no delay. Dr. Lawrence has an empty room in his apartment complex as his previous flatmate decided to give up practicing Medicine to go hike the Himalayas. "

Jimmy was blinking shocked at her, his mouth opening and closing as a gaping fish out of water as he tried to comprehend what was happening with him. He looked at Lawrence, who was trying very hard to keep a smirk off his face.

"He decided to broaden his horizons. Who am I to blame him?"

"Would you have gone with him if given the chance?" Lee asked, showing a saucy smile as he tried to imagine that prissy looking doctor in winter clothes hiking in the snow and hail.

"No, man. Orange is not my color. Couldn't let the ladies grieve my absence for too long while I was trying to find my inner peace in a Monastery. Do I look like a monk to you? " Lawrence gave him a smirk, eliciting chuckles of the board members who finally left the serious faces drop now that their intentions had come to air.

"Not a monk. A monkey perhaps. A Chimp." Gloria said earning laughter from the two doctors.

"Oh… you're saying…" Jimmy was still trying to find words but none came.

The hospital director stood up, a hand distractedly checking the buttons of his four hundred dollar suit. "You're one of us now, kid. Now go to HR, give them your personal info and they will give you your own hospital ID in less than an hour. Then get your ass back to my E.R. and work your ass off to prove that we haven't made a mistake in trusting our patients in your hands."

"No sir, it wasn't a mistake."

"I want you to prove that to me, kid."

"I won't disappoint you, sir."

"Good. This meeting is dismissed." The director nodded to Gloria, who was smirking at the director with an I-told-you-so glint in her eyes. He chuckled and gestured to the other board members to leave. Jimmy stood up and had his hand shaken by each board member before they've left, leaving only the doctors behind with the hyperventilating young man.

"Hey, Palmer, we're clocking out in two hours. Wanna check the room in my place?" Lawrence offered, tapping him on his shoulder and receiving a still glazed look from Jimmy, who was nervously running shaking fingers through his messy brown hair.

"Ah… oh… sure, where is it?"

"Lawrence has a super house six blocks from here. It's almost like a train station/sideroad motel as most of the interns or residents as some point in their lives have lived, visited or attended a function in the house." Lee said, nodding to Jimmy.

"Really?"

"Yeah, my dad owned the place. I just refurbished it to have independent bathrooms and stuff so I could sublet it. It has eight small apartments fully independent."

"Wow…"

"Enough of chit chat, boys." Gloria interfered, making all three young doctors look at her. "I'm glad you are all getting cozy with my newest toy, but I was under the impression we're running a hospital here, not a dating service. Lee, I want you to take a look at the diaphragm fix they've done at the patient in room 430 and Lawrence, you'd better give me a definite diagnosis on that chronic pain patient on 338. Dr. Palmer, just got a text from the front desk, there's a GSW coming in five. I want to see your skinny ass scrubbed down and in position for the bus arrival in five."

Jimmy was feeling still dazed with all that had happened, smiling loopy to Grace. "Can you repeat that?"

She squinted her eyes at him, her patience getting thinner by the second. "You'd better move that skinny ass of yours and get your butt into clean scrubs, we have a GSW coming in five."

"Not that. I've got that. The part you've called me _doctor_."

Gloria smiled, shaking her head at his puppy face. "Well, Dr. Palmer, move your skinny ass and scrub up, we have patients to see, lives to save, sutures to make. GO!"


	12. Meanwhile

**_Chapter 12: Meanwhile...  
><em>**

After wrapping their case back in DC two days later, the team hurriedly packed their things and flew down to St. Louis to meet with Ducky. They were received by the gentle Scot at the airport, who promptly reported his failed visits to several hospitals in the area of the accident. Apparently, despite the fact that Jimmy's car had been involved in the crash, his body was nowhere to be found and, if he was unconscious or hurt he was unable to identify himself so he must have been considered a John Doe.

This uncertainty regarding his whereabouts was troubling as they would soon find out that even Jimmy's belongings hadn't been claimed yet. They were all still in his car, the leftovers of a life that remained unfinished.

While Gibbs and Ducky went to the main office of the car garage to identify themselves and claim his things just for safekeeping, Tony, Ziva and Tim stared horrified to the crushed pile of metal, rubber and glass that had been sometime in the past Jimmy's car.

Tony's horrified face was frozen in a panic as his eyes slowly filled with tears as he thought about the suffering his friend – his dear friend – had been going through in silence, completely alone, without any kind of support from any of them. What kind of friend was he if he hadn't paid attention to the glaring signs of pain in those blue eyes? They were there, blatantly obvious, yet none of them had stood up for him and offered even a shoulder to lean on.

In one single strike of fate, Jimmy's family has been ripped away from him, his job had been terminated and his friends – the same ones that supposedly were the best investigators in the Navy Yard – completely missed the signs of exhaustion, pain and despair so clearly displayed in his pale face.

Ziva touched nervously her Star of David hanging from her neck, her lips moving in a silent prayer in her mother tongue as her gaze studied the damage suffered by the small car. Her experienced eyes studied the pattern of destruction, her mind supplying the missing information to create a clear picture of how truly horrifying the accident had been.

"There's no way anyone could survive a crash like that." McGee voiced in a whisper their dark thoughts, his own guilt consuming his chest like a festering wound with no permission to heal.

"The local CSI said that there was no evidence of blood in the front seat." Ziva glanced at him, her gaze filled with guilt. "There is still hope of him being alive."

Tony sighed loudly, his gaze going to the other destroyed cars from the same accident, each showing the aftermath of a high speed crash. "If he is, where can he possibly be now?"

NCIS NCIS NCIS NCIS

_"Dr. Palmer, please report to trauma two."_

The internal system of the hospital droned on, making the two doctors resting on the cafeteria look up to the ceiling and sigh.

"It seems that your coffee pause is over," Dr. Jansen, a pixie looking woman with bright green eyes and short black hair, said to Jimmy as he sighed again and looked down lovingly to this cup of mocha swirling in cream.

"I've had hoped for another ten minutes." Jimmy said as he used a finger to swipe a bit of caramel running on the edge of his cup.

"There's no such thing as full rest time in Gloria's hospital." Jansen said sipping her own coffee, closing her eye in bliss as the hot drink hit the back of her throat and went down her esophagus, warming her all the way down.

"I was under the impression the hospital belonged to the committee chosen by the University." Jimmy took to deep gulps of his coffee, eager to finish it so he might be on his way.

"In theory yes, but within these walls," Jansen swirled her pale fingers in the air, leaning towards him and whispering, "the one who really calls the shots is always Gloria."

"Great. The one person who has the power of making my life miserable is the one who hates my guts." He admitted morosely, throwing his empty cup in the garbage can and going down the corridor to Trauma 2, being closely followed by Jansen who skipped lightly to keep up with his longer legs.

"She doesn't hate your guts."

"Of course she does!" He turned to her, seeing a lingering smirk on her lips and continued. "Just yesterday she ordered me to organize the whole room with the patient's files of the cancer yard. I had to organize them alphabetically and according to the diagnosis. The _whole_ room. There must have been thousands of files in there."

Jansen snickered, a hand going up to cover her mouth as her eyes danced mischievously. "It doesn't mean that she hates you. She does that with all new doctors."

"Why?"

"Just because she can." Jansen grabbed his arm and squeezed it amicably. "And she expects you to memorize all possible diagnosis for cancer known to men by the end of the day."

"That's torture."

"Yes, but that's quite effective. After reading four hundred times how Advanced Melanoma Stage IV is diagnosed, you will probably know the symptoms by heart if one comes by your hands while working at the E.R."

Jimmy growled low as he reached the door of Trauma 2, taking the patient's file from the hand of the nurse leaving the room. He skimmed over the file with his eyes, checking the main points he had and already planning what he had to ask his new patient.

"It still sucks." He muttered, his eyes never leaving the file.

"Relax, you'll get used to it." She said as she left him to his own devices and walked towards the elevators in the end of the corridor. "Beep me when you're done? We could grab an early lunch."

"Ah… uhm… sure." He replied blushing brightly.

She smiled at him and boarded the elevator, letting the door close after herself and leaving Jimmy staring sightlessly at the spot she had been standing just a few seconds before. A nurse came from the station and stopped before him, smiling lightly at the lost in thoughtful look he had on his face.

"Dr. Palmer?" She called him, seeing him blinking rapidly behind his glasses before lowering his gaze to her face. "Shall we?"

As he had been raised to be a gentleman, he opened the door of the room, gesturing to her so she may go first. She smiled delighted at his chilvary, entering the room soon followed by him.


	13. Voices in my head

**_Chapter 13: Voices in my head  
><em>**

The team finally arrived at the reception of the St. Louis University hospital and showed their badges, requesting to speak to the doctor responsible for the incoming victims of car crash occurred in Monday. An attendant with a fake smile pointed to a chair and asked them to sit, getting back to the phone call she had answered and effectively ignoring them.

Gibbs glanced to Ducky who had a stricken expression on his face. The toll of going from hospital to hospital after the body or wounded body of his boy was making itself known in the old man. Groaning mentally at what he had to do, Gibbs dug around his pocket and slammed this open badge on the counter in front of the nurse, making her jump lightly and look at him with big round eyes.

"We would like to talk to your supervisor," he leaned over, smiling sharkily at her. "_Please_?"

NICS NCIS NCIS NCIS

"We don't have any patients that match this name." Dr. Carson, chief of the E.R., said distractedly to Gibbs, Ducky and the team as he barely glanced at them, his gaze not leaving two doctors struggling with a patient with a maniac episode two beds away.

"So you haven't received any patient…" Gibbs glanced briefly at the man trying to bite the attending doctor, who yelped and jumped on the man, forcing him against the bed linens and shouting for security. He grimaced at that and when he looked again at the doctor, there was just a placid smile on the doc's face. "… that remotely resembled this man."

"Nope, not at all."

Dr. Carson gestured to Tony, Ziva and McGee to get out of the way as four burly security men came running down the corridor with a straightjacket in their hands. The three agents stared horrified as the men grabbed the lunatic, wrapped him up like a thanksgiving turkey in cooking paper and carried him away like a mummy, all that in matter of seconds.

Dr. Carson didn't even blink at the scene.

"What about… john does? He doesn't have any family to speak of, just us, so it might be possible he is unconscious and without documentation." Tony said, grimacing as a little girl came shrieking from one of the exams rooms and hurled violently on the floor. He immediately looked away as he felt the urge to do the same, closing his eyes and praying for the nausea to go away. Such projectile vomiting immediately reminded him of the Exorcist movies. All of them bundled together.

Ziva gulped as two orderlies ran to the little girl, one dragged her back to the exam room she had escaped from and the other gestured to the cleaning crew to wipe the fluids away.

"All our john does we had were accounted for this week. They've all been properly identified and their families informed of their location."

"I see." Ducky muttered.

A hand touched heavily down Ziva's shoulder, making her spin around to face her aggressor. She froze her instinct to hit back when she found a very old man in hospital garb and a nose canula staring at her, his rheumy blue eyes staring at her as the same time drool dribbled lightly on the left corner of his mouth.

"Ah… hi." She threw a desperate glance to Gibbs who didn't move to help her at all.

"You're beautiful. Wanna marry me?" The old man asked with a dreamy smile.

"What?" Tony rushed to her side and instinctively wrapped a hand around her shoulders, making her lean against his chest. Ziva was so uncomfortable with the situation that she didn't even complain about his possessive action.

The old man smiled up at Tony, spit flying as he spoke. "But I wanna marry. I still have fire in my veins."

Ziva took a step back horrified as the old man took a step forward, just to be stopped by Carson's hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Clark, shame on you. I thought you were a faithful man."

The old man who was obviously Mr. Clark looked at the doctor. "But I am. I'll be faithful forever to my lady friend." He then smiled lasciviously at the Israeli.

"But I was under the impression that you had already proposed to Nurse Adele." Dr. Carson said, pointing to a cute brunette nurse talking to an orderly a few feet away.

As if sensing the scrutiny she was under, she lifted her eyes and smiled at Dr. Carson, squinting a little as her gaze landed on the old man. She huffed and her hands immediately went to her waist, her feet tapping the floor impatiently showing her displeasure at his escapade. Mr. Clark immediately looked chagrined at her, lowering his eyes ashamedly to the floor. The pretty nurse approached him in quick steps, immediately going to Mr. Clark's side.

"Mr. Clark, what are you doing out of your room?"

The old man looked up shyly and offered his hands to her in surrender.

"I was looking for you…"

She smiled at that, her gaze meeting the doctor's and receiving a nod from him. She grabbed a thin blanket from a passing orderly and wrapped it over Mr. Clark's shoulder, effectively protecting his bare backside from the gaze of the agents.

"All you had to do was press the button. You know I would come immediately to you. I would never leave my groom hanging."

Gibbs and Ducky exchanged a look that said thousand words as Mr. Clark stopped before the nurse and said with a shaking voice, "You are such a beautiful girl."

Nurse Adele beamed at the compliment.

"Will you marry me?" The old man asked in a shaking voice.

Adele nodded, starting to walk down the corridor. "Of course I will. But first let's get you back to your room and hook you up in your IV line again. If you want to be strong and healthy for our wedding ceremony you can't keep on ripping the IV out."

"It itches."

"It's for your own good, Mr. Clark."

They wobbled slowly down the corridor, their voices getting lost in the buzz of nurses and doctors rushing around.

All agents and one M.E. turned to Dr. Carson who smiled saucily at them, shrugged and returned the file of their missing friend to Dr. Mallard, checking his cell phone for any emergency txt from the E.R.

"Sorry I couldn't be of any help."

"I see." Gibbs was impassive, just watching the mirth obviously shining in Dr. Carson's eyes at the horror of his team to the crazy nuthouse he had in his hospital.

"Thanks for your time, Dr. Carson."

The two doctors shook hands, the younger one smiling at the agents before leaving them standing in the middle of the E.R. and walking away, getting immediately absorbed in the buzz of the vibrant E.R.

McGee sighed loudly, looking around at the people being treated in different infirmary beds separated by curtains, one after the other.

"This was a big waste of time." He muttered darkly, his gaze landing on a small black child sitting on her mom's lap whimpering as a doctor gently wrapped her arm in plaster.

"I can't believe we've lost him. All over again." Ziva said sadly, seeing the same despair she felt in Tony's face.

"Well, this was the last hospital we had to visit." Ducky said. "I believe that it is now up to him to contact us, as he is obviously lost to us, beyond our reach."

"Are you giving up, Duck?" Gibbs looked at the sorrow in his friend's face, not liking it at all.

"Sometimes one man has to recognize when he must throw the towel, my friend. He is so close, I can feel it, but it's as if he has just slipped through our fingers."

"Yeah," Tony said morosely. "Sometimes I can almost hear his name ringing in my head:_ Palmer, Palmer, Palmer…"_

_"Dr. Palmer, please report to exam room 15."_ The internal comm system blared.

_"… Palmer, Palmer, Palmer…"_ Tony continued.

_"Dr. Palmer, please report to exam room 15."_ The internal comm system blared again.

Ziva and McGee exchanged a look, hope bubbling in their heart. They looked at Tony and headslapped him in unison, making him shut up and look startled at them.

"They _are_ calling his name." Ducky muttered, looking up at Gibbs with bright eyes.

Gibbs smirked at Ducky and ran after an orderly, grabbing her arm and making her turn to look at him. She raised her eyebrows at him, but he was too excited to bother with her obvious displeasure at his manners.

"Where is exam room 15?"

She gave him the instructions on how to get there and soon five people ran towards their long lost friend.


	14. Fairy tales

**_Chapter 14: Fairy tales  
><em>**

They arrived in the second floor where the exam room 15 was and rushed to the nurse's station, asking directions for the correct room. The chief nurse pointed to the last door in the corridor and the agents, after a deep breath to restore their calm, started to move in a cohesive mass towards the indicated door.

Once they reached the door they peeked into the room, finding a nurse gently talking to a little girl not older than six, lying forlornly against the pillows of her hospital bed. She was in a cast from her waist down, in a bilateral long leg hip spica cast which left only the tips of her tiny toes out. She pouted and wiggled her toes, basically ignoring the nurse who was lecturing her on not stuffing colored pencils under her cast.

They tried to look away but the little girl looked so lost and fragile that their hearts went out to her plight, mentally trying to figure out where her family might be and what could have possibly happened to land her in that situation.

"Excuse me, I need to see my patient." A very familiar voice sounded behind them.

They turned around and found Jimmy in blue scrubs all doctors used in that hospital, his eyes fixed in whatever was written in the file in his hands.

"JIMMY!"

"Mr. Palmer!"

Jimmy barely had time to look up before being grabbed into a bear hug by Tony, who squeezed him around his middle and made him squeal in pain. As soon as he was put down the floor both Ziva and McGee took their time to hug him as well, shocking him into a stupor.

"Guys?" He looked confused from one to the other, before his eyes finally landed on Ducky who took two steps and hugged him, slapping him heavily in his back as the older man struggled to contain his emotions.

"What are you doing here?" The young doctor could barely hide his surprise at their visit.

_"What are we doing here_? We thought you were dead, man." Tony complained.

"Me? Dead? Why?"

"You simply disappeared from the face of the earth." McGee complained. "You left without saying goodbye and when we finally hear from you – actually from your car – it was in a horrible accident. We simply assumed the worst case scenario."

"Oh, really?" He gulped, seeing the pained looks on his old mentor. "I … I completely forgot about the car, things have been crazy since I've arrived here and I barely had time to crash in the doctor's lounge before the next emergency."

"It's no wonder Ducky couldn't find you in the wounded list. You were never in it." Gibbs muttered, approaching Jimmy and glaring down at him, expecting to see the usual intimidated face in the younger man but he was pleasantly surprised when Jimmy just looked at him with glazed eyes, his mind obviously elsewhere.

"No, I have been in the E.R or in the O.R. right from the beginning."

"And why didn't the E.R. chief recognize your picture when we showed him your picture?" Gibbs asked.

"Who did you talk to in there?"

"A Dr. Carson."

"Ah… that explains a lot. He hates Gloria and he got quite pissed off that Gloria handpicked me to be in her team."

"Really?"

"Who's Gloria?" McGee interrupted.

"Ah… Gloria is…"

"I'm Gloria." Jimmy closed his eyes and gulped, turning around to look down to the impassive face of his supervisor who seemed to have the power to materialize in thin air. "And I'm the Supervisor of the Trauma Unit in this hospital. And I am wondering who you are and why my new trauma doctor is not doing his work."

"Ah… ergh... Gloria, may I introduce you to my former team. These are NCIS Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo, Ziva David, Timothy McGee and Gibbs and… this is Dr. Mallard. We used to work together at NCIS."

"Uhm… " Gloria studied them unimpressed, her gaze stopping briefly on each of them before settling on Dr. Mallard, who took a step forward and offered a hand in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to meet such charming physician."

Gloria raised an eyebrow at that, not making any move to take his hand. Ducky seeing her haughty look lowered his hand.

"Sweet words and pleasantries won't take you anywhere here, Dr. Mallard. May I enquire what is your area of expertise in medicine?"

"I'm currently a medical examiner but during several years I was a practicing trauma doctor working for the military."

"Uhm…" She smiled thinly, not willing to expose her surprise at that. "Not bad." She glanced at Jimmy, who was looking anxiously from her to his former mentor, unsure of who to help. "Dr. Palmer, have you already given the news to little Emma?"

"Ah…" Jimmy scratched his head. "No… I was on my way to her room when I've met them."

"So you'd better do it soon. Social Services have already been notified and a child psychologist will drop by sometime today to ascertain her case."

Jimmy hunched his shoulders, glancing uncomfortably to Ducky before his gaze went back to Gloria. "What's going to happen to her?"

Gloria fixed hard eyes on him, stiffening her spine and glaring at him from the height of her five foot one.

"It is not your concern what happens to her from now on. What you must focus now is ensure that she leaves this hospital walls physically and psychologically able to endure the next stage in her life. It's going to be a hard slap of reality in her face, yes, it will be. But she's a survivor; she will adapt and thrive in a different environment far from the pernicious influence of her previous life. Life is made out of choices, Dr. Palmer, and we have to teach our patients to make the right one despite of how difficult it might be. Do you understand?"

"Chrystal clear, ma'am."

"Good." She looked briefly at the agents who had watched the exchange in silence. "I appreciate your visit to your former colleague but this is a hospital, not a country club. You may meet him again once his working hours are over. There is a hotel two blocks from here, you may settle down there and schedule an appointment later on, but right now I need my doctor back."

Gibbs' eyebrows went up at that forceful statement, a small smirk gracing his lips as he folded arms and studied the small general like doctor in front of him.

"**_Your_ **doctor?"

Gloria smiled evilly at him squinting her eyes at his cheekiness. "Ah… don't get me wrong, Agent Gibbs. You've held him under your thumb for a long time but …" she approached him and said in a stage whisper, her eyes never leaving his. "… **_he's mine now_**."

Gibbs' face didn't move a muscle, but it was clear to him that Gloria had stuck her claws – either physical as well as metaphorical ones – in Jimmy, claiming him as one of her own. And she was not shy of letting him know that if he tried to fight her on this she would play hard and dirty to get her way.

Gibbs smiled thinly, nodding slightly in acceptance of the threat. Gloria took a step back and acknowledged the nod, her gaze going back to Jimmy just to find him staring at her goggled eyed and with an open mouth in surprise.

"Dr. Palmer?"

"Ah… ehh… yes ma'am?"

"Back to work. "

He gulped and after a thin smile to his friends apologizing for his escape, scurried to the door of exam room 15 grabbing the patient file of the paper holder and studying it lightly before going inside to talk to the little girl.

The agents observed with surprise how the little girl seemed to brighten up with his arrival, exploding in a beautiful smile and lifting her arms so he could hug her.

"Dr. Jimmy!"

"Princess Emma! I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too!"

They hugged as long lost siblings, her delighted childish laughter ringing in the room. Jimmy opened a small drawer and took a book out of it, opening it in the bookmarked page. The agents moved closer to the door to look at the scene wondering about the strange little girl and the book in Jimmy's hand.

"Were were we?"

"We were reading about Rumpelstilskin."

"Ah… yeah… Rumpelstilskin…" Jimmy made a show of looking for the right story, frowning his forehead deeply as if looking very hard for the right paragraph in the page. He smiled when he found it. "Here it is. Once upon a time, in a very far away land, there was a wicked man…"

Ducky felt his heart squeeze in his chest as he watched the little girl fist her eyes tiredly before leaning – as much as she could despite her cast - against Jimmy's chest, who had sat down on the edge of the bed and was leaning against the pillows.


	15. All the angels in the sky

_**a/n: Happy mother's day to all mothers in the world. And to those motherless, remember that she's watching over you from heaven, dancing with butterflies in the air and swimming with dolphins in the sea.  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 15: All the angels in the sky, all fishes in the sea...<strong>  
><em>

"He's a good doctor." Gloria said in a soft voice, making Ducky move his gaze away from the scene playing before him to settle in the trauma chief. "He's natural with the patients. The children absolutely adore him."

"You've hired him." It wasn't a question. Gibbs studied the old woman, seeing a gentle smile blossoming on her face as she looked at the young doctor reading fairy tales to the little girl.

"On the spot. I knew he would be a great addition to my team from the moment he appeared in my E.R. pumping a man's chest despite the blood and gore all around him."

"But… he's our …" Tony muttered.

Gloria just huffed at him, unimpressed.

"Your what? _Doormat? Punching bag_? Or, oh… what was the expression he mentioned in passing… oh… **_Autopsy Gremlin_**?"

Tony for once appeared to be ashamed of his actions. Gibbs noticed the same shame burning brightly in Ziva's and Tim's faces. Ducky felt insulted by her animosity, not willing to be mowed down by the tiny doctor.

"Dr. Gloria, I'm sure you are mistaken. The gentle teasing of his colleagues …"

"Gentle teasing?" Gloria pointed to McGee. "That one wrote him as necrophile." She pointed to Ziva. "And you took great pleasure in psychologicaly torturing him." And she glared at Gibbs. "And you have never even bothered to talk to the boy, you've only intimidated him."

"That's not true." Ziva interrupted her.

"Where were you when his mother was at her death bed? When he was doing double duty at work and at the care of his mother? Do you have any idea how exhaustive it is to care for a terminal patient and still keep on the excruciating work schedule he had with you? Did you even bother to ask him what was wrong when he started losing weight and looked like something the cat dragged in?"

"How do you know that?"

"It's part of my job to notice things. The littlest detail might save a life in the brink of death. And for a team of top notch investigators, you guys are very much blind to something right under your noses." She checked her wrist watch, aware of a board meeting in a couple of minutes she had to participate.

"Besides that, the boy talks in his sleep and he has been sleeping in my doctor's lounge for a while. It's amazing what a girl can hear while picking a cup of coffee during her break."

The team fidgeted nervously, extremely uncomfortable for being called to the carpet by the old doctor. Properly chastened, Ducky raised his hand in defeat.

"I hoped he would come to me. With his problems. With his fears. He knows my door is always open to him. I'm always willing to listen."

"Really?" Gloria asked ironically. "I was under the impression you basked in the captive audience for your tales, but you never really bothered to listen to what the boy had to say. Unfortunately I think any action taken now would be too little too late. So I hope you all finally learn this lesson, as harsh it might seem to be. _It takes great responsibility to handle the delicate care of an Autopsy Gremlin_."

Having said these last haunting words, Gloria studied each one of their faces with care before turning around and left, her white doctor's coat billowing in the air like a cape behind her figure. Each felt the weight of her words in their conciousness, aware that despite the harshness of her words it was the truth.

A harsh cold truth that couldn't be denied anymore. They were so lost in the petty details of their own needs and lives that they had failed to one of their own. Only after he left in order to carve his own path they finally found out how important he was for them.

Yet Gloria's words had proved to be prophetic: it was too little, too late.

They slowly came back to the door of the room, where Jimmy now was using colored pens to draw a landscape in her cast. He was sitting at the foot of the bed and leaning over her right leg now that was an explosion of colors. And right before their eyes, they realized that one of their own had blossomed into an amazing person, yet they were too blind to see the man the boy could be.

"So Lord Gibbs came and vanquished the fire breathing dragon." Jimmy said as he used a purple pen to draw eggplant shaped dots in a tree.

"Did he kill the dragon?"

"Kill it?" Jimmy shook his head without taking his eyes from the cast. "No. He called Master Ducky, the lord of all arts, who prepared and enchanted tea that calmed down the heartburn the dragon had for centuries, causing it to be very mean and angry."

Emma laughed delighted, squealing as he tickled her feet. "You lie."

"No, I'm not lying. So, once the heartburn was healed they were able to figure out that the dragon wasn't so mean at all. He was just in pain and was very grumpy because of it. Once he was fine, he invited the knights for some tea and biscuits and they lived happily ever after."

"I like your stories."

"I know." He smiled at her. "I like them too." He became serious again, sighing lightly as he took a turquoise pen and uncapped it. He moved to the other side of the bed and started to draw lines resembling waves in the other side of her cast. "Listen, remember when told you about the shortage of angels in heaven?"

Little Emma nodded as she took a yellow pen and started painting a happy bright sun in the top of her knee.

"You said that God in heaven chose good people in Earth whenever He needed new guardian angels for his troops."

"Yeah, that's what I've said." Jimmy picked another pen, this one black and started to draw little fishes swimming in the ocean. "Ah… you see… God was a little bit lonely and He decided that He needed more help. So he looked down and found someone special, really special, someone who was in a lot of pain. So he came and made an offer to become one of his angels. And she accepted thus ending her suffering."

"Uhm… Who was it?"

"It was your mommy, Emma." Jimmy stopped drawing and stared into her innocent face, her skin marred by the fists of the man who had put her in that hospital bed and her mother in the morgue. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Where is mommy?" Emma kept drawing, biting her lower lip and struggling with the green pen between her little fingers.

"Mommy is in heaven now. With God."

"Is she coming to see me?"

"No, she's not. She's in heaven. But … she…" Jimmy stood up and wiped his hands in his coat, leaving a colored mark in the white cloth. "… she will always watch over you."

"I want my mommy." Emma pouted and looked up at him with teary eyes, her lower lip trembling a little.

"Ah… sweetheart." Jimmy leaned over and gave her a side hug, kissing her hair. "She's an angel now. She's… flying in the skies with butterflies and swimming in the sea with little fishes."

Emma took a while to consider his words. Finally she looked up at him with a sparkling smile. "With dolphins."

Jimmy grinned at that. "Yeah, with dolphins."

"And with whales and sea lions."

"I'm sure she prefers dolphins."

Both giggled a little before setting down again on the bed, side by side and playing with the multicolored pens in their hands. Finally Emma leaned to the side until she rested her head on Jimmy's chest, all the while staring at the green pen in her hand.

"She's never coming back, is she?"

"No. She's not. But she will always be beside you. Just not the way you expected her to be." Jimmy whispered, feeling the burden of dropping this particular bombshell into the little girl's shoulder.

Emma went to her several pens scattered over her lap and took a pink one, offering it to Jimmy.

"You have to draw me flowers."

"Okay. What if I draw some flowers here in blue?" He stretched his hand to change the pen but he was stopped by a little hand on his arm.

"I want pink."

"But I'm a guy."

"I want pink." Emma pouted announcing an incoming temper tantrum.

"Guys don't paint pink flowers." Jimmy was still trying to negotiate but to no avail.

"I want _piiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnk_." She shouted into his face, making him he consider his choices. Either draw pink flowers or have a temperamental female stuck in a six year old body.

A wise man knows when to fight and when to fold. He smiled at her and started to work. "Okay, pink it is."

He made a great show of making several lines and flowers and strange whirls imitating flowers. After he finished he took a step back and showed his art for her.

"What do you think?"

The little girl tried to sit to study his finished work. "It's cute."

"Yeah, it's cute. Now I can add some green grass here and here and that's a nice garden." He took a step back to study his work of art, a mess of colors and shapes only identified by the colors they had used.

"Now you use yellow." She offered him the yellow marker.

"Yellow?"

"I want pink and yellow flowers."

"Yes, milady. Your wish is my command." And so they stayed drawing and painting for hours the entire plaster with red, pink and yellow flowers, several butterflies and an ocean filled with fish and dolphins. And in the skies there were two small stick figures, one with angel wings and another in a pink dress.


	16. Forgiven but not forgotten

**_Chapter 16: Forgiven but not forgotten  
><em>**

Despite the harsh wakeup call of reality, the dinner between the team and Dr. James Palmer was a joyful affair filled of laughter and shared jokes. Tony, Ziva and McGee shared tales and memories with Palmer who, despite his obvious tiredness for working long hours at the E.R. was willing to sacrifice a few minutes of sleep to let the meeting linger longer.

Ducky would interfere here and there, asking about the current situation of the hospital the young doctor was working, which immediately would set Jimmy off into a long rambling explanation of this or that surgery or some strange happening in the trauma, such as hair clips swollen by a child and a toddler with a fireman toy in his nose.

"Man, your E.R is nuts. Completely crazy. We even had a Linda Blair moment this afternoon."

"Linda Blair?" Jimmy looks from one agent to the other, noticing the green looks on McGee's and Ziva's faces as Tony makes realistic puking noises imitating the little girl puking in the corridor in the afternoon.

"Please, I'm going to be sick." McGee moaned, going immediately green at the memory of this afternoon assaulted his senses making the nausea come back with vengeance.

Tony just stopped his sound effects after receiving a well deserved headslap from Gibbs.

"Thanks Gibbs." Ziva said glaring at Tony.

"He needed that." McGee moaned from behind the hand in front of his mouth.

"It's funny because projectile vomiting is not that common. I remember a time back in 1974 when a dear friend and I…" Ducky started to ramble just to stop when he noticed the sickly looks in all faces looking at him. "But then, this is not an appropriate talk for such joyful evening."

Jimmy out of the blue started chucking, his gaze going from one agent to the other, finally resting on Ducky. He started laughing, feeling for the first time a bubbling feeling of happiness in his chest since this whole nightmare had started.

Unable to figure out the source of the young doctor's mirth, the agents slowly joined him, until the whole table was lost in gales of laughter.

"Oh, guys, how I'm going to miss this." Jimmy said finally taking his glasses and slowly cleaning the lenses, chuckling lightly.

His words put an immediate damper in the good humor of the agents, who sober up and look at him longingly.

Ziva is the one who voices their main concern. "You're not coming back with us, are you?"

Jimmy takes a paper napkin and starts to tear it to shreds, his eyes never meeting any of the agents who had tracked him half way across the country. He was moved by their care and worry, but he was still too hurt to willingly go back to the way things were.

Things would never be the same and… to be sincere… right now _he felt good_. He would miss them – hell, he had missed them during these last few days – but still, the wounds were still too fresh, the pain too raw to blindly go back and think that it was all forgiven, all neatly wrapped up and summarized in few words of a heartfelt apology.

He was willing to forgive… but he wasn't ready to forget yet.

"Ah… I can't go back. Not right now. Not to the way things were. I… need this time… away… so I may find whatever it is to be _me_. This new _me_. This _Dr. James Palmer_." He spoke his title and name with a smile, before looking up to Ducky's face and finding him smiling shakily back at him. "I'm sorry but I can't go back now."

Ducky slowly nodded, leaning over the table and taking Jimmy's hand, effectively saving the rest of the napkin of total destruction. "We understand. But just because we're apart, it doesn't mean we have to become strangers."

"I'm fine with that." Jimmy nodded enthusiastically at that idea.

"So… tell me, Dr. Love, who's your first victim?" Tony whispered conspiratorily to Jimmy, making him open his eyes widely staring horrified to the senior agent.

"Oh… what… I … I don't know what you're talking about."

"Ah, come on, I know how these Emergency Rooms are. The doctors, nurses, high emotions and passions running hot… the clandestine encounters at the doctor's lounge…"

"Ah… It's not like that." Despite his words Jimmy blushed brightly, giving away the truth to Tony who started to tease him mercilessly.

"It's official. You are pig, Tony." Ziva said, eliciting laughter from the other agents.


	17. Dr Palmer has a thing… for shoes

**_Chapter 17: Dr. Palmer has a thing… for shoes_**

The following day, after clearing the air and making heartfelt promises of keeping in touch, the team decided to drop by Jimmy's job to say their goodbyes before going to the airport. They had the chance of observing the frantic actions of the doctors in their day-to-day tribulations, and were pleasantly surprised with how well their dear Autopsy Gremlin fitted in the well oiled machine of Gloria's trauma unit.

As soon as Jimmy had a break after fixing a toddler's broken arm, he came to their side and invited them for a coffee in the well stocked and buzzing doctors' lounge. Gibbs immediately zeroed in the three coffee machines on the counter, each producing endless litters of coffee in order to keep the doctors, nurses and interns awake during their day and night shifts.

Jimmy chuckled as he saw the interested glance Gibbs threw at the brew in one of the doctor's hands, the strong scent of coffee reaching them despite the fact they were standing several feet away.

"Wanna try it?" he offered, just to receive a raised eyebrow from Gibbs. "It's right up your alley. The stuff here is so strong that we usually joke the doctor's stomachs must be lined with lead in order to deal with it."

"I might." Gibbs answered, his eyes following another doctor looking extremely haggard standing by the coffee machine and staring sightlessly at the brew being poured in his cup.

Tony's eyes, in the other hand, were fixed in an extremely young and attractive nurse sitting by herself in the other side of the room, stirring her cup of coffee while eating a donut, her gaze on the fashion magazine in her hand.

"So man, are you sure you haven't found any cool chick in here?"

"I'd rather not talk about that."

"Ah, come on, man. Give me a break. There are some really gorgeous babes in here."

"I am not you, Tony. Regardless of what you think, I don't reduce the woman I date to mere objects or one night stands. I simply can't function like that. Besides, I have specific interests."

Ziva and McGee grinned, exchanging a knowing look as they remembered Jimmy's specific preferences. "Sure, Jimmy. We know."

Jimmy folded his arms, chagrined at the teasing grins on his friends' faces. "Come on, I am just very particular on my likes and dislikes, okay? There's nothing wrong in admiring beauty."

"Sure, Jimmy." Ziva said, noticing a drop dead gorgeous blonde doctor waltzing into the doctor's lounge in high stilettos shoes. She squinted at them, aware those must have cost a pretty penny and they were right up Jimmy's alley. "But then, you know you just have to grab the opportunities as they present themselves, right?"

Jimmy followed Ziva's gaze and found the pretty blonde doctor, noticing her going across the room and how she stopped by the coffee machines. His eyes slid easily over her curvaceous body but when she supported her side against the counter and daintily lifted one delicate feet of the floor, showing the beautiful red color of the soles of her shoes he was struck mute.

His reaction was instantaneous and comic, making his colleagues fall into laughter as they watched his brain literally go into a halt and his Neanderthal instinct go into overdrive as he literally salivated about those dainty feet in high pricey shoes.

"That's right up your alley, right, Jimmy?" Tony said as he put an arm around Jimmy's shoulders, squeezing it lightly.

"Ah... Ah… wow… those are Christian Loubotin's shoes."

Tony grinned, nodding and looking at the blonde doctor, who turned around with her coffee in hands and found both men gazing at her, one almost apoplexic and the other smiling lasciviously.

"What?"

The blonde doctor frowned and glared at them, crossing the room to demand explanations. Tony just raised his arms showing he was unarmed and not dangerous, but her gaze zeroed on Palmer in his hospital uniform. The young doctor gulped and started sweating, his eyes becoming huge behind his eyeglasses. Obviously, she was out for blood and the one being spilt in the near future would be of the new trauma doctor.

"What's wrong?"

"Ah… eh… nothing is wrong?" He looked desperately at Tony, who just chuckled and shrugged, in the universal gesture of saying `_it's your problem, not mine, buddy`._

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No, ma'am. I mean… Dr." Jimmy looked at her name tag. "Dr. Olden, absolutely not. We were not making fun of you."

"So why are you smiling like idiots?"

"Oh… we? No we…"

Tony decided to go straight to the point. "We were just admiring your shoes."

"My shoes?"

Jimmy nodded vigorously, vaguely pointing at her stilettos. "Yes, your Loubotin's."

"Yes, these are Loubotin's. How do you know designer shoes?"

"Ah… ohh… uhm…"

Gibbs just folded his arms and stared at Jimmy, who blushed brightly under the scrutiny of the team – Ziva, Tony and Tim were just looking at the young doctor waiting for his answer, barely containing their laughter – while Ducky chuckled lightly and cleaned his glasses, not willing to add to the younger man's discomfort.

"Ah… ohh…."

"Are you gay?"

Palmer blanched, lifting his arms in shock and taking a step towards the gorgeous doctor glaring at him.

"NO! No.. it's just… I have a thing… I mean… I just… I like shoes. Just… ah… It's my thing, you know, women shoes."

The beautiful blonde dropped the disgruntled face, now smiling at him with a knowing glint in her eyes.

"So you like shoes?"

"Ah… Yes ma'am." He blushed brightly, feeling mortified for admitting that outloud.

At that point, Tony was already howling with laughter, while Ziva had hidden her face against McGee's chest and was snorting. Loudly. McGee was trying to keep a dignified face, but he wasn't very successful in that.

She took a step closer to Jimmy, gently touching the sleeve of his doctor's apron and studying him with a come-hither look.

"You know, beside this Loubotin's I have a couple of Manolo's back home."

"Oh… Manolo's?"

"Yep."

"Oh…"

"You see, there's the one with the lace and open toes."

"Lace?" Jimmy was visibly sweating, his eyes glazed as he imagined the shoes… or better yet, the doctor with only the shoes in her feet. Nothing else.

"I also have the Kahika boots."

Jimmy had to hold back his whimpers. "Black cut out flowers in suede?"

She leaned towards him until she could whisper in his ear. "Red."

Jimmy's brain froze completely, his neural pathways glancing at each other, shrugging lightly and going door-to-door shutting down its functions. The blonde smiled wolfishly at him as she noticed the glazed out look in his eyes, patting him lightly on his cheek before grinning at the agents standing by his side leaving the doctor's lounge with a sexy swing on her hips.

Tony went to Jimmy's side, wiggling his eyebrows to Ziva as he saw that Jimmy didn't even acknowledge his touch in his shoulder, such was his fascination with that woman's shoes.

"So… Manolos, uhm?"

Jimmy was barely blinking, his gaze lost in a fantasy of long pale legs and red suede boots up to the knees. "Red Manolos…"

"Man, you're sick."

"He's not sick." Timothy said, trying to find a word to define their friend and finding none appropriate. "He's just being… Jimmy."

- the end? -


End file.
